


Why I Love You

by CrushItWithABrick



Series: How We Get There (Extras) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Pidge | Katie Holt, Canonical Character Death, Caring, Comfort, Drabble, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Lance (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Lance (Voltron), Other, POV Shiro (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Sick Character, Sick Pidge | Katie Holt, Side Effects, Snippets, Team as Family, rogue shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushItWithABrick/pseuds/CrushItWithABrick
Summary: Shiro is reminded of Keith's softer side as they care for a sick Pidge.





	Why I Love You

Shiro smells it as soon as he steps into the apartment then, a few steps further in, sees it. A trail of vomit leading back the hallway to the closed bathroom door. He grimaces as he steps over and around the mess and listens at the door. 

“You ok?” He asks as he knocks. When he doesn’t get a reply of any kind, he asks. “Pidge?” He listens closely for a grunt or moan and when he still hears nothing he announces. “Coming in. . .” He opens the door slowly to give her a chance to make some kind of sound to alert him not to come in but there’s nothing.

The scene tells the tale. Spatters of vomit streaked across the floor where Pidge stumbled, or maybe even crawled toward the toilet but passed out on her side (amid the mess) before she could get any of the sick into the still closed bowl. Shiro gives her leg a gentle shake and when she still makes no sound he gets a pang of concern. He steps over her then crouches and brushes her hair off her face. Her skin is damp with sweat and very warm. He stands up and wets a washcloth then crouches beside her again and wipes at the back of her neck and cleans her face. He rinses it and holds it to her forehead.

“Pidge. . .” She moans lightly and he sighs in relief.

He glances at the room and winces at the impressive mess then down at Pidge. There’s vomit in her hair and soaked into her shirt and pants. He wipes at the mess in her hair and recoils as she shudders and gags. He turns her away from him as she wretches and is relieved when very little comes out. He wipes her face and rinses the washcloth again. He props her up against the side of the tub and holds the cool cloth to her forehead for a moment then gets up. She slumps a little but remains upright. Satisfied that she’ll be safe from choking, Shiro leaves her and goes to the kitchen. He returns with paper towels and garbage bag and wipes up the bulk of the mess, all while keeping an eye on the still passed out Pidge.

“What the hell. . .”

He looks up from the bathroom floor at Keith standing in the doorway.

“Pidge is sick.”

Keith narrows his eyes at the scene and gives a little huff. Keith brushes past him as Shiro gets up and heads to the hallway. 

Shiro pauses in the doorway and watches as Keith grabs the washcloth and sits on the edge of the tub. He rinses the cloth in the tub then wipes at Pidge’s face as he looks her over.

Shiro leaves them and goes down the hall to where the mess starts and starts to wipe it up. He looks up from his work as he sees Keith leave the bathroom and go into his room. He returns quickly with a large towel and one of his t-shirts draped over one arm and pauses next to Shiro.

“I could use a hand when you’re done there.”

Shiro quickly finishes wiping up the rest of the vomit trail and joins Keith in the bathroom.

“Here,” he shoves the towel at Shiro as he continues. “She has a ton of puke in her hair so I’m going to rinse it then strip her and put her to bed. Just. . .” He looks around then turns to leave the room. “. .. keep an eye on her, I need a cup. . .”

He returns with a large plastic cup and Shiro watches as Keith gets the water set then gently maneuvers Pidge so she’s draped over the side of the tub. He pours water over her head being careful to keep it out of her face then combs his fingers in her hair paying close attention to get all the bits of sick out of it. Shiro is mesmerized by the scene. Not by the fact that Keith is so gentle and loving. Shiro knows and loves that sheltered side of Keith. He’s even been on the receiving end of this type of care himself but he’s never witnessed it. 

“I’m bringing her over to you,” Keith says over his shoulder, snapping Shiro back to the task at hand.

Keith scoops Pidge in his arms and turns to look at Shiro.

“Open the towel. I’m going to kind of prop her against you. Just loosely wrap the towel around her and hold her up.”

Shiro nods and does as he’s told. He shrouds Pidge and holds her up between his splayed legs and watches as Keith starts to remove her shirt. Pidge gives a little moan, not much louder than a sigh.

“It’s ok, Pidge,” Keith says. “It’s just me and Shiro. You puked all over yourself and we’re cleaning you up.” He pauses and adds. “We’re not looking, promise.”

Keith tosses Pidge’s dirty shirt into the tub and starts to fumble under the towel for her waistband. Pidge weakly struggles against him and tries to flail and get away.

“Pidge. . .stop.” Keith’s voice is low but Shiro can hear a twinge of irritation under the surface. “It’s just me and Shiro.” 

She continues to struggle and Shiro hears a hitch in her breathing as Keith manages to get her pants down and starts to focus on getting them the rest of the way off. He stops suddenly and hugs her to him.

“It’s ok, Pidge.” He cradles her head against him. “It’s just me. . .Keith. . .and Shiro. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise.” He looks at Shiro. “Pick her up so I can get her legs out.”

Shiro sits Pidge on his leg and holds her body against his. He feels her body hitching lightly and realizes she’s crying.

“Shh,” he soothes.

Keith tosses her pants into the tub then pauses again.

“Almost done.” He pats her shoulder then grabs the clean shirt from the edge of the sink. Shiro rocks her forward enough so Keith can get it over her head and, with only a bit of effort, they get the shirt over her without ever seeing her in a state of undress.

Keith takes her from Shiro.

“Go put the towel down on the bed,” he says. Shiro goes ahead of him to the spare bedroom. He pulls down the sheets and spreads the towel out. “Fold it over. . .” Keith gestures and Shiro folds the towel in half and steps out of the way. Keith puts Pidge down on the bed with the folded towel under the lower half of her body then covers her with the sheet. He looks at Shiro. “Not much help for urine but very helpful for blood.”

“Blood?”

Keith dips his head slightly toward Shiro and arches his eyebrows as Shiro realizes what he’s referring to.

“Oh. . .OH!” Shiro glances from Pidge to Keith. “Why would you think. . .”

“She’s having a reaction to suppressants,” Keith replies with a very flat tone and turns to leave the room.

“What?” Shiro follows Keith as he goes down the hall and grabs Pidge’s bag from the floor and walks toward the back of the sofa. “How do you. . . “

“Know?” Keith looks at him. “Previous experience and she has no scent. None. You didn’t notice?” He opens the bag and dumps the contents onto the sofa. 

“Keith, what the hell are you. . .”

“I need to figure out what she took.” He hands Shiro a pair of underwear and a t-shirt. “She’ll want these later.” Shiro takes them while still staring at Keith. He rifles through the rest of the items then grabs the bag and starts fondling it. He opens it and unzips a pocket and pulls out a dark colored vile. He huffs as he tosses the bag onto the rest of Pidge’s items. Shiro follows him into the bathroom and watches as Keith opens the vile and mutters. “Shit, drops?” He’s pissed and slightly shocked. “Where did she get. . .” He sniffs the open vile. “No, Pidge, no.”

“Keith, what’s. . .”

“This is synth.” He sighs at Shiro’s confused expression. “I bet she made this and is testing it on herself.” He shakes his head and Shiro can see he’s angry and concerned. He takes Shiro by the shoulder and leads him to the room. “Keep an eye on her. We need to watch her temp. . .” He turns to walk away and Shiro stops him. 

“What should I do?”

“Just sit with her, I’ll be right back.”

Keith walks away and Shiro stares for a moment then goes to the bed and sits on the edge. He stares at Pidge and realizes he’s counting her breaths. He sighs and closes his eyes then opens them again. He watches her for a moment then thinks of Sam and Colleen. He starts to get up to find a phone to call them then stops as Keith strides into the room. Shiro watches as he shakes something in his hand and peers at it. Satisfied, he gently prods Pidge’s mouth open and slides it into her mouth. She moans a bit but doesn’t fight him as he nudges her mouth closed. He stands still, one hand on the little glass tube coming out of her mouth and the other on her forehead.

“Is that going to be accurate?”

Keith swipes his palm across his pants.

“Should be. She’s definitely running a temp.” He glances at Shiro and gives him a reassuring smile. “Relax, Shiro. We’ve handled worse.”

“Yeah but antiques weren’t involved.” He smiles back at Keith. “And it never involved Colleen Holt.”

Keith makes a face and Shiro laughs louder than he expected.

“Why would you involve her?” He pulls the thermometer out of Pidge’s mouth and peers at it. He shakes it as he continues. “102.” He frowns. “Not a lot of wiggle room but. . .” He puts the thermometer on the bedside table. “I’m going to scrub the floor.” He glances at her and sighs. It’s a frustrated sound Shiro’s heard many times. “Just keep an eye on her and. . .” He looks at Shiro. “Stop worrying. We got this.”

Keith pats him on the shoulder and walks away. Shiro watches him leave then stares at the door as it closes. For one intense and brief moment he feels abandoned and powerless. His heart races and he forces himself to turn and look at Pidge. He focuses on her and takes a deep breath and then another.

He hasn’t had a panic attack for nearly a month, not since Keith came back from his latest mission, and the thought of having one in front of him, especially now, horrifies him and helps him focus.

He slides back on the bed and stretches out next to Pidge. He watches her for a moment then takes a deep inhale and exhales slowly. He leans his head back against the headboard and closes his eyes, all the while listening to her breathe.

It reminds him of that narrow bed in Keith’s shack, Keith pressed against him, warm and naked, slowly falling asleep. Shiro had stared at the ceiling and listened to Keith’s easy and even breath as he slowly lost control of his own. He remembers feeling Keith wake, the shaking of the bed as he scrambled and sat up and pulled Shiro to him. He remembers feeling Keith’s bare chest against the side of his face and focusing on his heartbeat. Calm and soothing, leading him back from his panic attack.

He hears the door and opens his eyes to see Keith. He glances at Shiro then sits next to Pidge. Shiro watches him as he feels her forehead with his hand then wipes her face and throat with a wet washcloth. Pidge gives a small cough, barely more than a sigh and Keith rolls her to her side as she wretches into his washcloth draped hand. He wipes her mouth and watches her for a moment then looks at Shiro.

“Acxa had a pretty bad reaction and I helped Zethrid with her.” He slides back on the bed and rests his head on Shiro’s shin and sighs. “She had another not quite as bad reaction right after that and that’s when Zethrid put her foot down and made her get something tailored to her body chemistry, not just pop one of the basics.”

“She suppresses regularly?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty common among Omega Galra and, from what Ezor told me, most do just fine with the few basic formulas. She’s fine with it, Zethrid, too.”

“They’re all Omega?”

Keith turns his head to look at Shiro.  
“Shame on you, of all people, for your assumptions based on stereotypes.” He chuckles and looks up at the ceiling. “I’m going to tell Lance and you’ll get a tic.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Shiro replies. He sits up. “Want anything?”

“I could use some water. Thanks.”

Shiro stops at the bathroom first then pauses at the couch on his way to the kitchen. He picks up Pidge’s bag and notices something stitched into the lining. “M.H.” He stares at the initials and sighs. He turns the bag right side out and starts to put everything back inside when he hears a voice.

“Who dumped bleach. . .” Lance stops behind the sofa. “Why are you going through Pidge’s bag?”

“I’m not. I’m putting everything back.” Lance leans over the back of the sofa and kisses his cheek.

“You know she’s going to know someone. . .not saying you. . .was in her stuff, right. She’s going to be pissed.”

“She’ll just have to be pissed then,” Shiro replies. Lance leans back and furrows his brow at Shiro.

“What’s going on?”

“Keith says she’s having a bad reaction to suppressants.”

“What? Where is she? Is she ok?”

“In the other room.” 

Shiro can hear them from the kitchen as he gets Keith a glass of water. When he returns to the room, Lance is on the bed with Pidge’s head on his lap.

“So we just wait?” He strokes her hair as he stares at Keith.

“Yes. If her fever spikes, we take her to the E.R. immediately along with the synth so they can treat her.”

“Pidge. . .” Lance turns all his attention to her. “What are you thinking, huh? You should have at least mentioned it but no, you have to have your secrets you pain in the. . .” Lance’s voice cracks as he trails off.  
“Don’t get too upset,” Keith offers. “Her fever isn’t up at all so. . .”

“You used that?” Lance gestures at the thermometer in Keith’s hand. “Is that even safe to use on people anymore? Where did you even get it?”

“Gloria’s apartment and yes, it’s fine.” He downs his glass of water and gets up from the edge of the bed. “If you’re going to sit with her, I’m going to make dinner.”

Lance gives a little huff and makes a face at Keith’s back as he leaves. He sighs again and pats the bed next to him.

“Stay with us, Shiro?”

Shiro rounds the far side of the bed and wraps his arm around Lance’s shoulders.

“He’s just so calm and practical. Drives me fucking crazy.” Lance huffs then smiles at Shiro. “In a good way, of course.”

“Oh, I get it,” Shiro replies. “He drops the bomb on me that she’s having this bad reaction to some strange chemical she cooked up and then casually leaves me with her so he can scrub the floor.”

Lance snickers.

“That’s so Keith.” He takes Shiro’s free hand in his. “But it’s comforting, right? That he’s just like, ok, we have this excitement going on but someone still has to mop the floor and cook dinner so. . .”

Shiro grins.

“Yeah, it is.” Shiro kisses Lance’s temple. “You should have seen him washing her hair. He actually picked bits of vomit out of it. And he wrapped her in a towel to change her clothes, to preserve her privacy.”

“Aww. And eww. I don’t think I could pick chunks of. . .no, I couldn’t do that. That’s gross.”

“Not even for me? Or Keith?”

“No way,” Lance replies. “I’ve wiped him down when he puked all over the place, sure, but picking bits of. . .out of his hair like a monkey.” Lance shudders. “No, no way. I’d just scrub him really good and tell him to figure it out once he was feeling better.”

Shiro laughs.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, you don’t? Ask him what happened after your wedding, when he got sick all over the bathroom in our hotel room.”

Shiro sits back and looks at Lance.

“He really drank that much?”

Shiro sees a slight look of shock on Lance’s face.

“You just ask him about it and see what he tells you. Just know for sure I did not pick puke chunks out of his hair.”

Lance relaxes against Shiro and fidgets with Pidge’s hair.

“Her hair is so soft. Like baby hair soft.” He sighs and then chuckles. “Too bad she doesn’t smell like a baby. She still kind of smells like vomit.”

Shiro gives him a playful nudge.

“Lance!”

“What? She does. I love her and will do anything for her but she’s kind of ripe right now. I wish Keith had hit her with a little bit of my coconut milk shampoo is all I’m saying.”

Lance’s sigh is sad despite his joking tone. 

“She’s going to be ok,” Shiro says. “Stop worrying.”

There’s a long pause before Lance replies.

“I can’t help it, Shiro. Seeing her like this it just hurts. It reminds me of A. . .why would she do that, Shiro? Why would she. . .” Shiro pulls him closer as he trails off. 

He knows how Lance feels, knows how easy it is for past pain to come to the surface when new pain occurs.

“It won’t be like that,” he says. “Pidge will be fine and you can yell at her for being irresponsible and for scaring you. . .us. And she’ll give you that face but then, later, will apologize and give you a hug. You know how she is.”

“Yeah,” Lance sighs. “I just don’t want to lose anyone else, Shiro.”

“I know.” He kisses Lance’s temple again and adds. “Do you really think Keith’s going to let Pidge go anywhere without a fight?”

Lance gives a little chuckle followed by a sniff. Shiro turns to look at him. His eyes are rimmed in tears and as he blinks a few fall. Shiro pulls him to his chest and strokes his hair.

“It’s ok,” he soothes. 

As he holds Lance, Shiro hears the door open and sees Keith. He stands in the doorway for a moment and they lock eyes. There’s a flash of worry on Keith’s face and Shiro gives him a small reassuring smile. He sees Keith take a deep breath then come further into the room. Lance looks up at him as Keith sits on the edge of the bed and reaches to touch Lance’s hand still idly stroking Pidge’s hair. Keith closes his hand around Lance’s and kisses the palm then holds it against his face before letting it go and turning his attention to Pidge. He feels her forehead and the sides of her face then looks at Lance.

“Help me sit her up a bit so I can get another temp.”

As they wait, Pidge propped against Lance’s body as Keith holds the thermometer in her mouth, Keith uses his free hand to wipe the tears from Lance’s cheeks.

“It’s ok,” he whispers then slips the thermometer from Pidge’s mouth. He squints at it and sighs. “Still holding steady.”

“Is that bad or. . .”

“It’s what I expected,” Keith says to Lance then adds. “And good. . .ish.”

Lance takes a deep breath and visibly relaxes.

“I’m focusing on the ‘good’ and not the -ish,” he says.

“Good,” Keith repeats. He offers them both a little half smile. “Dinner’s ready. She’ll be fine by herself for a few minutes so everyone can eat.”

“No. . .” Lance situates her on his lap again. “You and Shiro go and I’ll stay. Just don’t eat it all, whatever it is. All I can clearly smell is Pidge. You should have used some shampoo on her hair.”

“Noted,” Keith says as he stands. “I know I slacked on my hairdressing duties but can I still get a kiss?”

Shiro snickers at them as Lance leans over Pidge and presents his lips in a very dramatic pucker. Keith glances at him and gives a little shake to his head then kisses Lance.

“I love you,” Keith says to him in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Don’t get yourself worked up.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” Lance says with an equally matter-of-fact tone.

Keith sighs at him and gets up. Shiro sits up and Lance stops him.

“Kisses. . .”

Lance offers him the same silly pucker and Shiro laughs and kisses him.

“Make sure you ask him,” Lance says as Shiro gets up.

“Everything ok?” Keith asks as Shiro joins him at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, she’s still sleeping or passed out.” He shrugs and serves himself from the pot of pasta. Keith’s meals reflect his personality. No nonsense and to the point. Shiro has seen him pull out all the stops on a few occasions but day to day, it’s simple and efficient.

“Lance?”

“He said I should ask you about what happened after the wedding reception.”

Keith gives a little grunt and leans back in his seat. His jaw tenses as he looks at Shiro but he’s not upset. Shiro knows he’s trying to decide what he wants to say and it makes Shiro uneasy.

“I had a minor reaction to suppressants.” Keith shakes his head at Shiro’s frown. “Don’t, Shiro. It was a long time ago and you were happy, right?”

“Yes but. . .”

“I did what I needed to do to see you happy and I don’t regret it.” He offers Shiro a smile and Shiro can’t help smiling back. “And it wasn’t like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“Guys. . .”

Shiro wants to continue the conversation but Lance’s call drags them both from the table and back to the bedroom where they find Lance holding Pidge over the side of the bed as she violently gags and wretches.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says.

Keith grabs the sheet and wipes at Pidge’s mouth. The wretching slowly subsides and Keith tosses the sheet aside and slides Pidge back onto the bed and settles her on her side

“I got her. Take a break and eat.”

“You sure?” Lance cuddles against Pidge’s opposite side then reaches for the towel and covers her with it. Keith nods and Lance slowly gets up. “I’ll be back super quick.”

“No rush,” Keith says. He rounds to the far side of the bed and settles in next to Pidge then looks at Shiro. “Make sure he eats?”

Shiro nods and Keith sighs, leans back against the headboard, and closes his eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to eat after. . .” Lance gestures toward the bedroom and slurps a noodle into his mouth. “This is pretty good. Not pizza or a huge plate of fries good but. . .” He trails off with a roll of his eyes as he mocks Keith’s ongoing struggle to get him to spend less on dining out. “Hmm. . .” He wipes his mouth and points at Shiro. “. . .any word about your evaluation?”

Shiro smiles at him and Lance laughs.

“That good? Tell. . .tell.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the world of my bigger fic, "How We Get There" (a Shiro POV fic about how he ends up having a family with Keith and Lance). I'm having a bit of trouble editing myself in that work (I like a slow burn, I guess) so when I get little ideas I just have to write, I post them as drabbles/snippets. 
> 
> This may or may not be referenced/used in some form in the main fic but you don't need to read that fic to enjoy this (and vice versa).
> 
> This is set about two years after Shiro returns to Earth after being stripped of his command of the Atlas (where Lance finds him and moves him into the apartment Lance and Keith share). Shiro's been undergoing intense therapy for his PTSD in hopes that he won't be completely kicked out of the Galaxy Garrison. Lance is a teacher with the Galaxy Garrison (and also does therapy). Keith works in a humanitarian capacity with the Blade (that has him away from home for long-ish stretches, his humanitarian work is his therapy). Pidge. . .well, she regularly crashes on their couch when she's not at the warehouse (owned by her father) working on all kinds of projects.
> 
> The "M.H." stitched into the lining of Pidge's bag are Matt's initials (he died/was killed shortly after the war ended and Pidge still has not fully dealt with it. . .the bag used to be his).
> 
> Gloria is the old woman who lives in the first floor apartment (she's been mentioned but not named in the main fic and is pretty minor).
> 
> I love writing smaller fics (though this is kind of long. . .I know) so if you have a prompt you'd like to have written, shout it out.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
